Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 514 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- | oe they entered another house directly in the rear “Of it It was anold house, and seemingly deserted, and | -in an almost tumble-down condition. Once inside the house, they carried the boy up- stairs and into a dark and foul-smelling room. Here they laid him down. ‘‘ Fires! but that was a narrow squeeze with th’ blue-coat!”’ exclaimed Bill. “You're right it was!’ agreed Hawk. “It had th’ appearance of a. ifficulty at first.”’ ‘It bad. fera fact. What's ter be done with th’ lad now?” “1lt show ye that in short order,’’ Hawk declared. “‘Tinrend ter fx him so’s he won’. be } okin’ his ‘nose where he’s got no business ter pokeit, I! tell ye_ Bill, I know this lad well, and it’s a honvwst fact that I’d a heap ruther have one o’ Byrnes’s reg’lar detectives on my track nor have him, He's aterror!’’ “ Th’ deuce! ye don’t mean ter say ye’d be ’fraid ©’ a boy, do ye?” “Not in many cases I wouldn’t, but when that bo is Broadway Billy, I'd a heap ruther have the small pox after me.”’ ‘* Well, ye’ve got th’ best o’ him now, anyhow.” ‘“‘ Yes, an’ ] mean to keep tae best 0’ him, too,” “Ye don’t mean ter kill him, do ye?” “No, oh, no! not that. I’m not runnin’ my head inter a rope, thank ye, I’m goin’ ter keep him a riewg onal though, till—well, as long as th’ boss wants im kept.”” ** An’ who’s th’ boss?”’ ‘‘That cashier feller I told ye about. Yesee I've sort o’ got a grip onto him, an’ when he wants an dirty work done, he comes terme. He pays good, too. Reckon he must /ift th’ spare cash out o’ th’ -safe once in awhile, That’s nothin’ tev me, though. Ye see he’s got a wife an’ child in aflat up-town, an’ now he’s tryin’ ter marry another gal.” Little they imagined Broadway Billy was coming sto, and that he was taking in all they said. “ And you're goin’ ter let him go it, eh?” queried ill. ‘You betI am! He'll rake in a pile o’ cash by th’ umoye, an’ then you bet /’l/ come in fer a share.” “Th? gal is rich, eh?”’ ‘*T should say so!”’ ‘* An’ th’ wife?”’ ‘Oh! she’s pretty but poor. Ye see she was 4 5: inhi an’ he took a fancy to her an’ married Jher.’ : ‘An’ now he wants ter git out 0’ it, eh?”’ ‘* No, I guess he likes her, but ye see he’s got into a hole, or at least that’s th’ way I take it, an’ he “wants ter marry t’other one to git money.” Oh! Isee. Well, come, we must tie this lad, fer he’ll soon be comin’ to."’ Billy stazgered to his feet. ‘- Ye needn't trouble yerselves,” he said, ** but jest cue, St door an’ let me out o’ here, double quic re Hawk had lighted a candle while talking, and by ‘its light they could see around. ‘*When you git out o' here ye’ll know it,” Hawk declared. “Ireckon I hold th’ best hand in th’ game now, young feller.” Billy’s stren and spirits were returning with every second that passed. His courage he never Jost, so that was with him in full power. “Ye may think ye do,” he retorted, ** but don’t be too sartain. There’s nothin’ in this world so mighty oncertain as certain things that is onsartain. You want ter take mighty good care that another stick ©’ timber don’t fall onter yer head an’ knock ye silly.” ‘There, that'll do, my bantam,” said Hawk, as he -advanced, ‘‘if ye don’t shut up I'll knock ye down. ome, Bill, an’ we'll make him safe.”’ ‘‘Stand back!’ Billy ordered, “ orit’ll be th’ worst fer ye! I’ve got a cano’ dynamite in my pocket, an’ if L let it drive at ye ye’il dy-n-a-mi-te hurry, you bet! Stand back, I say!”’ The two men advanced upon him, however, and despite all bis struggles, he was securely bound, hands and feet. “There!” said Hawk, ‘‘I reckon you'll stay here, won't ye?” “Ye don't want ter bet very heavy on it,”’ Billy -answered. ‘ Oh! I guess it’s a dead sure thing. There’s no possible chance fer yeter gitaway. I won't gag ye, cause ye kin holler jest es much as ye like. Robod xin hear ye, an’ if they do they won’t trouble their heads about ye. If ye want to test yer lungs it’ll be _@ good chance fer ye ter do it.” “All right,”’ Billy returned, as cheerfully as pos- -sible. “I make an awful howl when 1 do let ’er loose though, I kin tell ye. Say, though, how long -am I ter stay here?’’ ** Till I get ready to let ye out.”’ “Ph ye fer th’ infermation.” “You're welcome to it.”’ Making sure that tle bo bound, the two men threw in one corner and let him lie. Then blowing out the light they went out, locked the door, and retreated from the house. “Sweet pertaters, gum-drops, earthquakes an’ fish-horns!” Billy ex.laimed, when left alone; * if “this don’t clime th’ capmax! Here’s my plans al knocked end-ways, an’ me in a sort o’ consarned -diffikilty. Wonder what's goin ter happen next? Wonder what that feller hit me with? Lordy! but vit did knock me silly, an’ no mistake. Now, how ’m Iter git out o’ here? Got ter do it somehow, that’s “mighty sure.” ’ ; he first thing he did, naturally, was to try his These he found secure beyond a possible hope of reaking or loosening them. dia was indeed securely m upon a heap of straw i, oe 3 a 4 . 7 rw . ae pot ot Pe hoe i» ef 4 yy « y re a. , , * 7 . gh. ‘ aie’ al We red ot r <<. 9 a » = —_- . ———— ~_ Nor had he any means of cutting them. “ Begins ter look as if I would have ter stay here, an’ no mistake,’ he complained, “It serves me right, though, Mebby after I git killed a couple o’ | times or so Pll git soiwe sense,’ Billy blamed himself for every ill that happened to befall him. as though he could foresee and ought to know better than run into danger. | When he found that it was impossible for him to | get free, he threw himself back upon the straw and egan to think, trying to plan some means by which to get out of his dilemma, ie no plan presented itself, and at last he fell asleep. When he awoke it was daylight, and the light | came pouring in through ove of the windows where ' one of the heavy, solid shutters was broken at the top. With en exclamation he sat up and looked around his prison, , It was a dismal, dreary-looking room, and the only article of furniture it contained was an old table. Ona this stood the candle that had been used on the previous night, While Billy was looking around he heard steps ascending the stairs, and in a moment more the door of the room opened ani Abner Hawk en- tered, He carried a plate, on which were a piece of bread and some meat. : “Hello! You’re up, are you?” he exclaimed. ** How did you sleep?” ** First-rate,”’ Billy responded, there—somethin’ to eat?”’ “Yes.” Hawk answered, as he placed the plate on the table, and then he drew a revolver from his pocket. \ His next move was to free the boy’s hands and assist him to stand up, his teet being still tied. ‘* Now.” he said, *‘ eat, and let us hav- no monkey business, or I will shoot you.” Aod Billy, being hungry, did eat. While he was eating, Hawk’s comrade of the pre- vious nizht came in, and when he had done. they fieed his feet long enough for him to move around at liberty for afew minutes. Then they bound him securely again and left him alone. CHAPTER XV. FROM BAD TO WORSE. At a reasonably early hour that morning, the de- tective called at the Elmore residence. He had a clew, he said, and hoped that within a few days at most he would be able to clear the mys- ery up. e was looking for Mrs. Osmond. if he could find her, he felt sure that he could get such information as would lead to the finding of Maud and the exposure of the whole plot. Mr. and Mrs. Elmore were filled with alarm and anxiety for their daughter’s safety. The mother, never in the best of health, was aimost prostrated with grief. Both were very kind to Polly Osmond, and she had every comfort. The doctor, too, called again, and if enter- tained him with conversation of the most insane and imaginary kind. It was of no use holding out false’ hopes, the worthy doctor declared, He feared the Py girl's mind was permanently weakened, and advised Mr. Elmore to place ber at once in an asylum, She might, he said, become violent at any time, and not only do injury to herself, but to others. aurice Melvin called while the doctor was there, but he did not go up to see Maud, and made great show of grief when told the sad news—that there was little or no hope for the girl’s recovery. He went away greatly troubled in mind, though his heart was not greatly disturbed. Polly and the maid spent their time in Miss Elmore’s sitting-room. Polly was anxious and thoughtful. The news that the old Centre street tenement had been burned, that her mother could not be found, and Billy’s expression of doubt as to whether she really, was her mother, gave her plenty of food for ought. Polly and the maid had grown to like each other, and their hours together were pleasant to both. But we must return to Maud Elmore. since the in- terest of our story demands that we do so, We left her elated by the hope that she had found the means of escape. We will now explain what her plan was. : As we have described it, her room had. two doors, One of these opened into the hall and the other into the bath-room, Over the door of the bath-room was a transom, too narrow to admit of any one’s climbing through, but wide enough to admit air and light to the bath- room. Poe transom was open—in fact it was destitute of glass. f course Miss Elmore had no idea or hope of being able to get through this transom, but tak ‘ao it in connection with another discovery she made, she ho to make it the means of her escape. The door of the bath-room was locked. The key was in the lock, on the outside from Maud’s room. The lock was of make, and the key pro- truded through it about a quarter of an nch. By experiment Maud found that she could turn the key, but of course it was impossible to turn it far enough to operate the lock. Sbe could only turn it where it was free. After puzzling her brain for some time she hit upon the idea that gave her hope. “What ye got . n a i at” *s% 7 -~ Se ee * ~ ear Ta ot the woman retreated, and Maud piney an oor. upon the table then, she put her head Getting upo P futo the , = ———- “a . on - o- . - ™ . - — a , _ —- o . " > »° * ‘ f . ‘ . ‘ ; sine ere i eens « , ie Pee.” oe are » ae mry t Binal a. a CRE BOVEY) Fp ae, pris * ” r er . - , ; ; , ae ey ‘ , Cre # € her,” . . . ‘Al ; 7 ““p. “ Tom Ve ‘ Ve S foe had, « ey ‘7 6 ae “titi als a nk ve a? on yt t ; ee Ss 4 7 ete sre a z ¢ TO a ee eet a's Paryy 09 ye AA a? 3 vate ’ Ts Soe 4 .—~ - { "TS: rae wy > ‘Abele? 4" % ys? ‘ =, aa ; ; v a, / ‘ : a - . 4 <> fe : 7 ‘ ; P ‘ ‘ + ’ ‘ « *, + e . - § . & ‘ ee ad + - ’ ee. 12 , - Broadway Billy’s Boodle. — | ‘ nat, © r7 e | ' ; : +BY 7 . - oy - ~ a AS - ot os o- . hint If she had a string to ore down over the tran- som, and could secure it to the key by means of a loop, then she might be able to push the key out of the lock, draw it over the transom by means of the stiing, and then unlock the door and make her es- cape, She was hopeful instantly. When she came to search for a string, though, none was to be found. She searched thoroughly. here, there and every- where, but no string, thread nor anything could she find. This was a damper to her hopes, but she did not give up the idea. : When the [rishwoman came up with her supper, Maud asked: “Well, how have I behaved myself to-day? Have I given you any annoyance?” “Faith, but it’s a darlint ye’ve been th’ day, sure,’ was the reply. ‘If ye’ll only behave so well every day, my swate one, I'm sure we'll get along.” ‘*] shall try to do so.”’ **That’s right.” ‘‘What is your name?’ Maud next asked. “Me name? sure it’s jest simply Ann McDooli- an ” “Then I will call you Ann, if I may.” ‘Certainly, darlint, call me that.”’ “ Well, Ann, you have a kindly face.’’ (with a mental prayer for forgiveness for the falsehood), ‘*and J have a favor to ask of you.”’ ‘- Now, darlint, I—”’ “Oh! it is a very simple one, I assure you.”’ ‘* Well, what is it?” “Itis this: !am so awfully lonesome here that I would like to have some sewing to d6to pass away the time. Can you not procure me some?” “Oh! is ‘hat all yez wants? Sure, then ye shall have it instanter.”’ The woman went out, soon returning with a small work-basket. Here, thanks to her own clever scheme, Maud found thread in plenty, and her hopes grew bright again. S on, however, they were dashed to the ground. “T'll open th’ ba:n-room fer yez,” the woman said. ‘‘an’ then if yez will ye kin take a bath.” “Oh! no, you need not do that!” Maud quickly cried; ** 1 do not care to take a bath.” ‘| must do it anyhow,” the Irishwoman insisted} it’s th’ missus’s orders, sure.” ‘ ‘‘ And who is your mistress?’ Maud asked, hoping by a quick question to draw out some information, The woman was not to be caught. “Sure, she’s th’ missus of th’ ’sylum,”’ she an- swered, adding: ‘Now, pl’aze don’t begin wid yer questions, dar- lint, or we won't git along fri'ndly at all at all.” “Very well, I will not trouble you.” “That's a sensible child, An’ now I'll go around an’ open th’ door. Sure th’ kay is a blessed nui- sanee, so it is, fer it won’t go inter th’ lock only on th’ one side,’ Going out into the hall, and thence around, the woman entered the bath-room from the opposite side, and threw open the docr. “Phere ye are,’ she cried, ‘an’ now ye kin bathe or not, jest as ye loike.”’ Having opened the door and spoken these word eard ber lock an bolt the other door upon the outside. Her chance was gone. The woman then came around and took away the supper things, and again the girl was left alone, hat was she to do? How could she escape? The thought haunted her constantly. — That night passed slowly, and slower still dragged the next day. And night came on again. We may add here that the day dragged as tardily for Broadway Billy, in his dismal prison, and the coming on of night found him still in the toils, It seemed certain that evil must triumph. When the Irishman brought Maud's supper to her on this nigbt. Maud asked: * Ann, will you do me another amall favor?” _ “That I will, darlint, if it’s no bigger a one than th’ last.”’ - As ‘It is not so great. ‘* Out wid it, den “7 wish you would lock this door of the bath-room instead of the other, the same as it was yesterday. The shadows are so deep in there that lam - ” raid. “ Sure, then, sbut de door.” “fT have tried that, but still Iam afraid. Come, Ann, 1 am not asking much, so please oblige me. ‘ “Och! but it’s de blessed little blarney Of a hum- bug yor, are, to be sure. I'll do it to pl'aze ye, though.’ And the woman did, and Maud’s hopes again arose. The girl knew, though, that she must not act until a late hour. About ten o’clock the Irishwoman would drop in to see if everything was all right before going to bed, and then she would have to wait at hour longer before she could feel sure the household would be asleep. : 4 The hours rolled on and ten o’clock came, A few minutes later the Irishwoman made her call. and then Maud was left alone for the night. She at once besaoke, e a ba bet nee ia moving the ’ + trom table, sh d silently drew it up to the bath-room through the narrow transom and looked bath-room. All was oe east an TP silent there, and the other door was ) . *: - , ~~ ~ A = * Pe - ‘ - - ~ My ° ~ . * > nn" a © _ ~ we? an * . . j . ' pa . - . e a . - . ~ y ‘ > ‘ — a i - v. =e aes ae a a a ee + oo 7 > ~ . —— . . ; + ¢ . ; \ - > — ~ - ~4 - _ —— a | = es - wt : “ile ~ ~ ~~ 3 . table a * a? - 2 ” re a . uw ' _ WeAy y be . y Vite i 4 ie e LS ¥ * $ =f, rs ‘ in e ¥ 4 ty end fae LL F ri rae ae rine § Se ‘ pe = , r in / tay oe Bel \ ‘s Ata oe “f r